


Aesthetic (Suna Rintarou x Reader)

by cherryglazerr



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Insecurity, Mild Smut, Pillow Talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:01:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25521019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryglazerr/pseuds/cherryglazerr
Summary: Just a chill after-sex moment with Suna.
Relationships: Suna Rintarou/Reader
Comments: 16
Kudos: 425





	Aesthetic (Suna Rintarou x Reader)

_So close, so close, so close._

Your movements are desperate now - frantic, as you rut yourself harder into him, aching for the delicious sensation of his pelvic bone brushing against your clit. He helps you, large hands guiding the movements of your hips up and down his length. He’s already there, but your eyes remain screwed shut, bottom lip pulled hard between your teeth as you teeter on the edge of euphoria. 

_So close, so close, so-_

You’re crashing. 

The waves roll sharp and heavy, forcing you to scramble as you hunch forward and dig your nails into his sweat sheened shoulder blades in an effort to keep steady.

Suna’s arms remain looped around your convulsing form, holding you tight against his broad chest. You feel his lips near your ear, trailing feather-light kisses along your jaw, gently shushing you as you sob into the crook of his neck. 

He only loosens his grip when you stop shaking. 

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

_In. Out. In. Out._

It takes a couple of minutes for you to catch your breath. Then, another few for you to grow comfortable enough to crack your eyes open. You’re on your back, head resting on the pillow. There’s a lazy smile on your face as you revel in the comfortable buzz of your high. 

It grows into a scowl when you turn to face your boyfriend. He’s propped up slightly against the headboard, features illuminated by the harsh blue light of his phone screen. 

“Rin,” you call. 

No answer. 

“ _Rin_ ,” you prod again. 

He merely grunts in response, but his eyes remain on his phone.

“You’re supposed to pay attention to me!”

“What, wasn’t enough that I just fucked you senseless?” he questions, amused, “Could’ve just said you wanted more, baby.” He smirks when you whimper upon feeling his hand snake down to your naked thigh, ghosting dangerously close to your heat.

“Rintarou, I’ll pass out.” 

Suna sniggers and pulls away, but his hand doesn’t leave you. Instead, it claims residence in your hair, rough fingers drawing slow circles into your scalp just the way he knows you like. The motion is soothing; it’s enough to lull you into a quiet calm. Temporarily, at least, before you grow bored.

You shift your position, moving your head to lay it on his chest. You feel him plant a soft kiss on your temple when you snuggle closer to him. His fingers continue their movements, wrapping around a stray lock of your hair, twirling and untwirling. Curious, you tilt your eyes up, peering for a peek at whatever had Suna so fixated on his screen.

You choke slightly.

“Are you- are you _seriously_ playing _Candy Crush_?” 

He shrugs, waiting for you to continue.

“Wow. It’s- I-,” you splutter, jaw slightly slackened in shock, “This is it. My boyfriend is officially a middle-aged housewife.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

“Rin, no one our age plays _fucking Candy Crush_.”

“Well, do you want me to put my phone away then?” 

“Nah. I wanna see you beat this level.” 

Suna murmurs something about you being ‘ _so dramatic_ ’. You pinch his arm, but nonetheless, settle back into the warmth of his form. Your eyes quietly follow the movements of his fingers, swiping and switching the colourful little cartoon gummies on the screen. Your mind, however, is elsewhere. 

“Do you ever wonder what kind of aesthetic we have?”

“Aesthetic?” he asks, brow raised in curiosity. 

“Yeah, it’s like... how we appear as a couple, our _personal brand_ , y’know. There are the edgy ones, with their matching leather jackets and cigarettes. Then you’ve got the cutesy couples, always posting stuff of them in little cafes with their little wool sweaters. I just-”

Suna snorts at that, mildly amused by the direction the conversation had taken. It was most certainly _not_ something that he wondered about. But he notices the gleam in your eyes, the lift of your tone as you speak. It’s clearly something you’re interested in. He finds himself unable to make any sort of comment to interrupt you, so he simply cradles you closer and listens to your verbal musing. 

“I just feel like… maybe we should be doing _more_? Like right now - it’s the weekend, we’re free from assignments. And yet, here we are, lazing around in bed. Shouldn’t we be… I don’t know, out on a date or something? Maybe one of those high end places instead of where we usually go?”

“Take you out for some fancy shit, huh? Yeah. I can do that.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. You didn’t expect him to actually agree. Turning to face him, you ask, “Really?”

He shrugs, “If it’s what you want, then yeah, sure.” 

Glancing at his screen, you comment, “It’s nearly 9. We’ll have to be out the door in an hour, tops, before everything starts closing.”

“We’ll need to look for our nicer clothes. Can’t walk in looking homeless.”

“Have to move off the bed first. Catch a shower, too.” 

“Hmm, we’d better get to it then.”

Neither of you move. 

Suna’s still on his phone, now having switched to scrolling through Instagram. You’re busy drawing patterns on the skin of his abdomen, fingers tracing mindless figures that soon grow into stars, and then, entire constellations.

Your little world has, once again, fallen into a quietness; a nice silence. 

The frosty bite of the cold night raises prickles along your skin, making you draw yourself closer into your boyfriend. He’s warm. It’s pleasant, enveloping you in a comfort and safety that you don’t remember ever having experienced before. 

(And now that you have, you don’t think you can handle moving away from it.)

It’s you who speaks first.

“Sooo…”

“Pizza?”

You already have your phone in hand, fingers scrolling for the food delivery number.


End file.
